The Chronicles of Molly Holmes
by sherlockisdead
Summary: Sherlock and Molly are living together in his flat. Sherlock is still getting used to their routines as a married couple. Rated K for now, but that might change in later chapters.
1. Routines

It's a quiet night in 221B Baker street. It's winter, and there's a cold draft blowing through the apartment. Not powerful, but just enough to make the hair stand up on Molly's arms and produce goosebumps.  
A protective arm is latched around her waist. The hand belongs to her newlywed husband of six months. The grip tightens as Molly shivers from the bitter cold that suddenly hits. Molly leans upward and reaches to the end of the bed where she and Sherlock had nearly kicked them off in their sleep, and dragged them up toward she and him.  
The motion caused Sherlock to stir beside her as his grip loosened.  
"Are you alright?" He asked, as he sat up, suddenly startling his wife. He placed one of his hands to her side and the other to wrap around her neck and chest to give her a hug, planting a kiss on her cheek.  
"Yes, just cold." She responded. She knew he'd have a fit as soon as she told him. He always tried his hardest to make his Molly comfortable in the best way possible.  
"I might have some extra blankets, let me check in the closet." he announced, releasing his grip entirely and stood to exit the room.  
She watched him leave as he made his way into the closet in the hallway.  
He soon returned with a large wool type blanket of sorts and shook it out to cover it over Molly.  
He stood next to her, hugged her, then moved his arms up and down her back to produce some kind of friction to warm her up.  
She giggled at the sweet gesture and casually responds "Yeah."  
He climbs back into bed and he returns to his dominant spot as her protector, wrapping that same protective arm around her wasit again as they both drift fast asleep.  
The next morning he awoke, his arm still protectively around his wife. He silently slipped out of bed, as he did most days. The clock in the kitchen said 9:23. He perused around the kitchen looking for something to make for breakfast. Sherlock was about a good a cook as he was an idiot. He decided to wait for Molly to wake up.  
He thought it strange. Someone in his home, in his bed. His wife. It still all seemed so surreal, of course he hadn't thought of it much, everything became such a habit and a routine that he didn't notice how strange it was.  
But it was a good strange, he thought. Not being alone, not having to worry about falling asleep in a cold bed with nobody to hold; to make him feel alive. She, Molly Hooper- Holmes, rather- made him feel alive. Without her he was nothing.  
As he exited the kitchen, he peeked into the bedroom to catch a glimpse of molly yawning and stretching.  
"Good morning." Sherlock said with a grin.  
She jerked her head and smiled to see him standing there in the archway.  
"'Morning to you too, want some breakfast?" she asked sweetly.  
Molly got out of bed and made her way towards the kitchen, and grabbed some eggs and bacon.  
Now that Molly and Sherlock were married and living in the same apartment there was no longer any disguising body parts to be found in the fridge. He did miss it, but it all came with the price of being with Molly, and he wouldn't change that for the world.  
He observed as she reached to grab the pans out of the cupboard. She was still in her pajamas and had thrown on one of Sherlock's old sweatshirts from university.  
He grinned "Is that my sweatshirt?" he asked.  
Molly stopped and forgot what she was wearing and checked.  
"Oh, yeah. I found it in the drawer. You don't mind if I wear it, do you? I still need to do the laundry..." her voice trailed off as Sherlock made his way over to Molly to link his arms around he waist, hugging her tightly.  
"It's perfectly alright. You look cute in it."  
She smiled as he released her to continue making their breakfast.

Sherlock was sitting at the table in the kitchen, as Molly gave him his plate of food, and brought hers over and sat down across from him.  
He hadn't had proper breakfast since he was a child until Molly moved in.  
He honestly did appreciate the effort that she put into it, even if he wasn't all that hungry for a big meal anyways.  
He just appreciated her. Molly. His Molly at that. And she was his as he was hers.


	2. Cars and Corsets

"Do you have any cases today?" Molly asked in her tender voice.

"Not unless Lestrade calls me, why?" Sherlock asked.

"Just wondering. I was thinking about jaunting around Piccadilly today, if you're interested."

His face lit up. "Of course. What would you like to see?" He asked.

"I was thinking we could do a bit of shopping, if that's alright."

Sherlock chuckled. "Of course it's alright with me. We're married. I may not like shopping, but whatever you want to do is acceptable." Sherlock mentally scolded himself for his cliché remark, but it _was_ true, he just wanted her to be happy.

Molly straightened her back. "Alright then. It's a date?" She grinned up at him.

"Yes." He smirked, finishing his breakfast as he stood up to briefly rinse his plate off and put it in the sink.

Sherlock made his way into his-their- bedroom, to get his clothes out. He opened the closet to find a good majority of his dress shirts ironed and spotless, all thanks to Molly.

He sported some somewhat tight dark jeans-the ones he knew Molly loved- and threw on a white dress shirt.

He was buttoning up his shirt when Molly walked in. A grin appeared on the right side of his mouth, as she returned it. Molly walked over to her husband. "Here let me help." She still had a grin plastered on her face as she began to help him button up the rest of his shirt. When she was finished, she smoothed out his collar and checked to make sure that he wasn't all discombobulated.

"Thanks." Sherlock said with a smile. She responded by kissing him lightly on the cheek.

Sherlock left the room, and was maneuvering towards the living room when he turned around. Molly hadn't closed their bedroom door all the way, so he caught a glimpse of her glorious backside as she slipped out of her pajama pants. A smirk crept up on his face again, as he plopped down on the black leather couch.

Sherlock stood up when he heard the door close, so he looked presentable to Molly.

His breath was taken away. She was wearing a white blazer with some kind of beautiful black lace dress shirt underneath, paired with some black skinny jeans and black flats. As he stepped closer, he had noticed he'd had the earrings he had given her in. They cost him a fortune, but he knew she was worth it; never doubted it for a minute.

"Wow." Was all he could manage to get out as he looked at the short, beautiful woman.

"Is it that bad?" Molly joked.

"N-no you look wonderful in fact." Sherlock admitted.

She really did look beautiful. Stunning, at that. Her hair was down just the way he loved it.

"Ready?" She announced.

Sherlock snapped out of his spell and made his way towards the door, grabbing her coat and slipping it on to her, like any gentleman should. She grabbed her white scarf and wrapped it around, and he grabbed his long black coat and his blue scarf. They really did look like a couple.

He practically galloped down the steps and onto the sidewalk, Molly following close behind. He hauled a cab. "Piccadilly Circus" He told the driver, and they both gracefully slid into the back of the cab.

Molly's arm was linked tightly around Sherlock's protectively, and his around hers. He placed a hand on the small of her back, rubbing gently, letting her know that he loved her. As if she read his mind, she put her head on his shoulder, returning the act of affection.

The taxi pulled up to a busy corner of Piccadilly. Sherlock paid the cab driver and got out first, holding his hand out to help his wife out of the cab. They then intertwined their fingers as they strolled down the sidewalks, deciding where to start first. Their walking pattern was almost in sync, and she linked her arm around his, like it was in the cab. She looked up at him with a grinning smile, and he returned it.

"Where would you like to start?" He asked curiously. He seriously had no idea where they were going, but he was positive Molly did.

Molly shrugged. "I was thinking maybe looking at some jewelry, but first I wanna show you this store." She said like an excited child, practically dragging Sherlock into a store. He looked around and observed. Paintings were hung on the wall, and there were glass ornaments of sorts scattered on shelves for purchasing.

She smiled at his reaction. She knew he'd love it here. He had told her for his appreciation for art, something he rarely told anyone about.

He looked around with his hands behind his back, when one of the paintings caught his eye.

The painting was of a couple, holding hands with their backs facing the artist. Sherlock really loved the painting, but he had enough as it was. Instead, Molly had caught her eye on something she had seen before, and this time was even more eager to buy it. It was a small glass heart with swirls of red in it. She took it over to Sherlock.

"This is nice." She showed it to him, waiting for a response.

"Interesting" He observed.

"I was thinking we could put it somewhere on the mantle in the living room.

He nodded as she bought the heart and they continued to stroll down the sidewalk, trying desperately not to bump into every person that walked by.

"You okay?" She asked him. He nodded as she linked her arm around his once more.

By the time they got home, Molly was carrying about 3 bags. She had bought some new clothing. She had most recently been attempting to get into fashion, now that she had a reason to dress up and look nice. She went into the bedroom and took the tags off of the articles of clothing and placed them neatly in their closet on her side. She grinned at the specific piece-pieces rather- that she had bought. A corset. Molly wasn't one for being sexy, but she thought she'd at least try for Sherlock. The corset was all black, and she pulled the garters out of the bag, along with some tights. She nearly jumped when Sherlock knocked on the door and she hid the clothing behind her back.

"How does Angelo's sound for dinner?" He asked.

"Wonderful." She agreed.

He smiled, and as soon as he left, she buried her clothing deep in her underwear drawer, hoping he wouldn't find it and start asking questions.

Tonight was going to be interesting, she thought.


End file.
